


Pretending

by Sunseekerwol (Neverforget94)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Gen, General WOL, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, the wol is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 08:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19437688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverforget94/pseuds/Sunseekerwol
Summary: *Heavensward spoilersShe is the Warrior of light. She has to keep moving forward, despite the pain in her heart or the losses she's suffered. She has to keep moving. If she keeps moving, she'll be fine.





	Pretending

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I threw together after finishing Heavensward and originally posted to tumblr. Because I'm weak and fall in love with video games too often and suffer for it.  
> Seriously, the writers ripped out my heart and I had feels. Might have a few errors, typos, and awkward wording. Sorry about that. D:

It scared him, he realized.

The warrior of light sat next to them both, on her knees and tears in her eyes. Her hand cradled Haurchefant’s, holding onto him with a white knuckled grip. As if she could hold him back from death.

“A smile better suits a hero...”

At first, her expression was pained. But she nodded. The pain drained off into a smile, a heartfelt smile, to ease his mind. Haurchefant returned her smile, his hand reaching up to rest on her cheek, his thumbs painstakingly stroking along her cheekbone. Then, as his last breath left him, it fell limp in her grasp. Her smile melted away when she realized what happened, and her tears began to spill over. She slowly, almost reverently, brought his hand up to her mouth to press a lingering kiss to his knuckles.

Aymeric shouldn’t be here, he realized. No one had ever seen the warrior so raw, so emotional. And as much as he wanted to comfort her his words stuck in this throat. But then, he witnessed the most curious thing.

As if he wasn’t there, she lowered Haurchefant’s hand to the ground. One hand went to grasp at her shirt in front of her heart and the other into her hair. Anguish, pain, and sheer agony were present on her face as she took a gasping breath, hunching over slightly. But as he watched her, the emotions slowly bleed off her face. Her grasping hands loosened their grip. Her face relaxing until it was completely calm. Her breathing even. It was only then that she opened her eyes, and he had to suppress the urge to recoil.

Flat and empty. Her eyes held nothing but dullness behind them. For someone who was known to radiate light and energy, seeing such a thing on her was jarring. And, while it might have been his wounds, it made him feel a little sick. It was a mask, he realized. A mask perfected by everything she’d gone through. And while he had never seen her eyes so lifeless, he’d seen that face before. It was a horrible realization to have, to know that she hid her emotions so well, and had done so in his presence before.

If it wasn’t for the tear tracks on her face, he might have managed to convince himself that he’d been seeing things.

However, when Estinien helped him to his feet after it only took a glance for Aymeric to know he had seen as well. The troubled expression on his face felt like a warning, like an avalanche ready to bury them all, but neither knew how to prevent it. Rather, they both turned to look at the warrior’s back as she was walking away, her steps steady and sure. As always.

~

Something was wrong, Alphinaud thought to himself.

There was a humming in his chest. Almost akin to panic. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to puzzle out what was causing the feeling. Fortemps manor felt colder after the death of their friend. But that was to be expected. He was no stranger to loss these days, and he was handling it as well as he was able. Not nearly so well as his warrior though.

It was eerie, seeing her so calm and collected. She had always been his calm in the storm, ever stalwart in the face of everything. But even she should have been affected by this. Haurchefant was something to her. He’d never been sure what exactly, just that she had cared greatly for him. It worried him, but was it his place to talk to her about it? Would she allow it?

He considered this, playing with the end of his braid as he stared out the window before dropping his gaze to the floor. Behind him, the room was full of people, their friends. Going over Haurchefant’s last moments and planning how to handle the funeral arrangements no doubt. She should be here, he thought, she should have a say considering how close they’d been. He glanced up, planning to turn around and look for her. However, he paused in his turn, movement outside the window catching his eye.

She was there. Walking through the snow in the same clothes she’d come into the manor with. His blood still staining them. Her face was as stoic as ever, but there was something about her eyes that made him frown. The panic in his chest increased slightly and he realized that the something wrong was her.

“I’ll be back anon.” He said to no one in particular, and no one paid him any mind either.

He didn’t bother with his coat, sure that he could convince her to come back inside in a small amount of time. Quietly, he stepped outside and nodded to the knight at the door in acknowledgement before continuing. He went in the direction he’d seen her go, eyes searching for her.

When they found her his heart nearly stuttered in his chest. He swallowed hard and tried to place his frantic thoughts back in order. She sat on the railing of stone, her legs on the other side of safety. Her hands were bare and only just held on, and she stared downward to the far away ground. As if contemplating letting go. More than once he’d cursed the Ishgardian’s precarious architecture, but never had he brought himself to loathe their love of heights before now.

With silent feet he stepped forward, hand twitching at his side. Perhaps if he was quiet enough, he could place a hand on her shoulder? Would that be enough to keep her seated? As it was, she looked like she was about to take flight. Though with the lack of wings, he knew how that would end. And perhaps she did too.

Perhaps… she wanted…

He couldn’t bear to finish that thought, and when she was within reach he surprised himself. Instead of a simple hand on her shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held on tightly. He could feel her back tense, and saw her hands clutch the stone beneath them. But he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

“Pray, forgive me my friend,” he began, and felt her relax slightly upon hearing his voice, “but I would feel better if you were on this side of the railing.”

Unseen to him, she opened her mouth to speak, but only a strangled noise came out. Her voice stolen from her once more she figured. For a second, she debated shrugging him off. But then her hands relaxed their hold on the stone and she nodded instead. He felt it rather than seen and loosened his hold enough so that she could swing her legs back over and jump down. It was only when her feet were back on the stone path that he let go and took a step back from her.

They stared at each other for a few moments, not knowing what to say. Her expression made his heart hurt. He hated when she had that expression, even more so because he’d been the one who’d taught it to her. A blank slate that betrayed nothing of her emotions or thoughts, a necessity for the political work they did. He’d never been as good at it as her and hated just how much she had mastered it. But her eyes. She couldn’t stop her emotions from bleeding into her eyes right now, which just showed how strongly she felt right then.

Despair, pain, loss. They were all so clear. He wanted to hug her, to hold her together if he could.

Something on his own face must have given him away, because as he reached for her, she began walking.

“We should probably go inside.” She stated.

She didn’t stop and kept moving forward. Alphinaud had no choice but to follow.

~

The warrior stood leaning on railing at the back of the ship as she watched Ysayle defend them. If not for the white knuckled grip on the metal, her hands would have been shaking. Her deepest wish then was to also throw herself into battle, to fight alongside the woman. But Alphinaud’s grip on her wrist, there for reassurance she assumed, kept her from leaping to her aid.

Perhaps things would have been different.

Ysayle fought bravely and managed to damage the ship in such a way it could no longer pursue them. However, it took all she had. The warrior could only watch in mute horror as Ysayle was struck by bullets and missiles. Eventually, it was enough. The form of Shiva was dispelled, and she fell from the sky. And as the energy of the crystal left her, only Ysayle was left. Mortal and dying. Through their connection to the mother crystal, she heard her last words, reaching out across the distance between them now.

“Farewell, Warrior of light. And thank you for showing me the way.” Words so final, there was no question of what was about to happen.

For a moment, the light swirling around Ysayle was almost too brilliant too look upon. But still she looked and was able to see Ysayle’s last moments before she shattered into crystal shards.

Behind her, Alphinaud shouted in denial, his hand squeezing her wrist as he reached out for where Ysayle had been, as if he could pull her to safety. But there was no point. She was gone. The wounds were beyond healing magics, and there wasn’t even a body left. She stared at where she’d been, before closing her eyes and mentally saying prayers to the twelve on Ysayle’s behalf.

“Goodbye, sister.” She whispered to herself when she finished praying, recognizing Ysayle for what she was.

Her words confused Alphinaud after the initial shock wore away. She knew he was about to question what she meant when she heard Y’shtola take a small step backwards.

“This aether… It was a crystal of light,” she said, her eyes wide as she looked upon the remains of Ysayle’s own dissipating aether, “She, too, was one of Hydaelyn’s chosen…”

Her words sunk into everyone as they stood in silence, each coming to terms to the fact that they’d just witnessed a warrior of light’s death. It hadn’t been gentle or kind in the end. Serving the mother crystal, you’d think that at the very end the warriors would have peace. But no. Ysayle fought until the very end. The warrior knew that even if she’d survived, she would have been set onto the next task their mother wished done.

“Fare you well, my lady.” Estinien intoned softly as the last of her light left the world.

Hearing Estinien’s words was enough to crack the dam of emotions she’d been trying to force away. The warrior ended up gritting her teeth to keep her breathing even. But she couldn’t seem to catch her breath no matter what she did. She closed her eyes and tangled her hand in her hair again, lightly pulling at the strands, trying to use the pain to ground herself. Her shoulders slightly trembled and she curled into herself, trying to take more than a gasping breath.

The inside of her chest felt like it was burning, and there was roaring in her ears. She shook her head, to try and ride herself of the ugly feelings trying to overwhelm her. It was only when Alphinaud once again squeezed her wrist, even more tightly this time, that she was able to hear him.

“-if you don’t tell us what’s wrong!”

She opened her eyes after managing to shut the lid on her feelings once more. Everything went still. She could breath again once she focused on him. He needed her to be strong right then. Especially with Azys Lla so close now. Now was not the time to break. He stood in front of her, one hand on her shoulder and the other still clinging to her wrist. His expression was almost frantic, but quickly turning to relief.

“Are you alright?” He asked, fully glad to see clarity in her eyes.

“Mother asks a high price for our gifts, is all.” She stated as she stood tall, her face once again calm and passive. As always.

“Did you hear her?” Y’shtola asked, stepping forward to offer a hand if she could.

“No…” She tried to figure out what to say, and went with a partial truth, “Ysayle thanked me, at the end thanks to her crystal. I didn’t think we could do that.”

Alphinaud cast a concerned glance over her shoulder to Estinien, who shook his head. It was a lie, but something none of them could confront her about. Not when so near their goal. He’d told Alphinaud about what happened with Haurchefant’s death. Now that he’d seen it again, he was more than worried. But it was a matter for another day.

When this was all over, Estinien swore to corner her and try to get her to speak.

~

The king swung his sword downward, a final attempt at an attack she assumed. She only watched as his grip failed and instead of attacking her, he threw his sword. As it clattered to the ground he slumped over in defeat. Meanwhile, the Heaven’s ward that were scattered around them fell over completely. The corner of her mouth twitched upward as their aether began to dissipate, ridding the world of them, and the king returned to his mortal form.

“How… How can this be? A millennium of prayer and the Eye’s power combined- And still you stand?”

He spoke to the ground rather than her it seemed and watched as his hands began to glow with his own aether. A signal he was not long for this world either. That’s what prompted him to look up at her, his mouth slightly parted in fear. She stared back unmoving, her head held high and her gaze filled with distain. Even with all the wounds on her, she stood tall. Thirteen strong they had stood, bolstered by primal power, and yet she remained. The fear grew until it became a crescendo of terror as he realized how strong she truly was.

“Who- What are you?”

She would be lying if she said it didn’t feel good to see him afraid of her. What did he see, she wondered as she walked forward, when he looked upon the woman who’d brought him to his knees? She wouldn’t get an answer. After he looked at her for a few more moments, his arms gave out and he scattered into light.

For the first time since Haurchefant’s death the tightness she’d felt in her chest was gone. She could breath again. It was fitting that they had fallen by her hand considering what they’d taken from her. And it was like balm for her soul, to know that neither Haurchefant’s nor Ysayle’s deaths had been in vain. She’d succeeded.

Her head tilted back then, and her eyes closed. For the moment, she simply allowed herself to exist. No running to the next task. No obsessive drive for revenge to force her to keep going. She inhaled slowly, taking the time to allow herself to relax. By the time she exhaled and opened her eyes, there was no trace of the man left.

For the first time in a while, she smiled.

“It is over then?”

Footsteps and a voice caused her to turn around, but recognition prevented her from going on guard again.

“I had hoped that mine would be the hand to end it… But knowing you, there was little chance of that.” Estinien stated, his tone as serious as ever. But the slight smile on his face betrayed his relief at seeing her alive. And it grew slightly wider when he seen her own smile.

She nodded to him and said, “Better for me to face them on my own, for fear that you’d become tempered and turn against me.”

She then reached into the bag at her hip, lifting out the Eye and offering it back to him, “That aside, I would not be standing here if you hadn’t lent me this.”

“’Twould seem the Eye has served you well,” he said as he received the eye from her, his smile slipping from his face and turning to contemplation.

She knew precisely what was on his mind and turned to look at the sword that lay on the ground nearby. It came as something of a surprise that it had remained while every other trace of the fight had vanished. But then she recalled that it had been made of the original Azure Dragoon’s body. Stuck in the mortal plane even after death due to the eye in his armor. And now stuck as a weapon. She felt pity for the fate of the man, but also, she could easily see something like that fate becoming her own if she wasn’t careful.

Estinien walked over to it, crouching down to remove the eye from the sword. She followed at a distance, knowing that this was personal for him. Just as ending the Heavensward was for her. It took some effort, but the eye came away from it’s setting with a sharp jerk. He stood then, staring at the eyes with an almost peaceful expression.

“It’s twin… At long last…”

He turned to face her, looking up from the eyes to meet her gaze. She offered another smile, this time filled with understanding.

“All that remains is to take them beyond the reach of man and dragon both,” he began, a small sigh leaving him before continuing, “With this task accomplished, my toils shall finally be at an end.”

She nodded and turned away, beginning to make her way to the entrance, expecting him to follow. It must have felt odd, being on the edge of freedom as he was. Something she wished for herself one day, though she knew how unlikely it was. She was the slayer of gods and bringer of light. Her duty wouldn’t be at an end until she was dead. But Estinien…

She was happy for him. 

As she walked she called over her shoulder, “Let me know what’s that’s like, will you? When you return?”

She didn’t receive an answer.

It was only after she’d gone a few steps further and realized his silence that she turned back around. And what she saw caused her to gasp. Her heart felt like it stopped beating.

Estinien stood, an eye in each hand, their energy engulfing him. He staggered, like a great weight was trying to force him to the ground. He hunched over slightly as the energy began to over-power him, and it was only then that she could will her legs to move. She began to run to him, attempting to reach his side. Whether she’d be able to help him or not didn’t matter. She couldn’t just do nothing.

“Estinien!” Her hand reached out for him as she neared him, but it was too late.

A below of pain left him, his voice warped and twisted as he was overtaken. His eyes glowed red for a moment before a great shadow billowed out around him, with him vanishing into its depths. To her horror, the shadow soon took Nidhogg’s form and became corporeal.

His feet slammed down onto the ground before her, and it felt as if the entire world shook with its force. She took a step back, readying herself for a fight if it came to it. The great-wyrm stared into her eyes, hatred and pain in his own. There was a moment of silence between them, seeing who would make the first move.

But then, rather than fight, he took to the sky.

She watched as he turned and fled and ran a few steps to watch as he went. It was only a matter of minutes till he was out of sight, as fast as he was. He’d left with no words, and with Estinien somewhere inside of him. Maybe even dead.

She didn’t know when she’d started to hyperventilate, but it was quickly making her vision go dark. Her hands flew up to her chest, grasping at her shirt, as if that’s what was making it difficult to breathe. She dropped to her knees, curling over to try and fend off the attack. But it didn’t work. She couldn’t calm her breathing.

Not another one, she thought. Estinien couldn’t be gone too. A physical pain settled into her shoulders, and before she knew it she was screaming.

It echoed around her, reminding her just how empty her surroundings were. She screamed for her pain. She screamed for her anger. For her sadness. If her friend were the price of victory, then victory be damned. Her life felt as nearly as empty as the echo around her with all she had lost. She screamed until her voice was horse, unable to stop because of the feeling of failure sinking into her bones. They had been so close to a resolution. So close to peace. To ending this all. It was unbearable. And losing another friend burned her the most of all.

When she could not longer give a voice to her pain, she stayed curled over. An attempt to keep her pain at bay. It was only when she heard the steps of Midgardsormr that she began to bring herself to her right mind.

“Nidhogg my child… What hath thy fury made of thee...?” He spoke, sorrow coloring his tone.

She began to rouse herself, sitting up slowly. The reminder that someone else was mourning as she was gave her enough strength to push herself back to her feet. To let her emotions slip away, back into the box she’d normally been so good at keeping shut.

She swallowed as she stared into the sky, where Estinien had vanished. Midgardsormr likewise stared after him but instead watched after his child. Without thinking, she placed a hand on his side. Just to ground herself and to offer what comfort she could. He knew loss as well she reminded herself. He turned to her then and dipped his head to acknowledge her.

“Let us away, servant of Hydaelyn,” he said kindly, oddly gentle for the father of dragons.

She nodded back to him, unable to speak. When she climbed onto his back and was settled, he began to bear her away from Azys Lla. The sight of them was signal enough for the airship to take flight and to follow. For now, she welcomed the reprieve from her friends. Eventually, she’d need to speak about what transpired. To put on a brave face before facing them. To be their rock, unyielding and unbreaking for what may come. But for now, as they flew in silence, Midgardsormr paid no mind to the tears she shed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on tumblr! I like writing, and am excited to get further in this game. :D


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